


First Kiss

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam uses every trick he can think of to win their wrestling match...even if it involves kissing his brother. Only, he may like it a little too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone--
> 
> Here is yet another very short old fic being moved from Tumblr.  
> Warnings include weecest (Sam is seventeen), and first kisses.  
> Hope you enjoy.

             “C’mon, Sammy,” Dean taunts. “Gonna put your ass in the dirt, little brother.”

            Sam practically growls, but it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion that Dean will, in fact, put Sam in the dirt. At seventeen, Sam is all long limbs he hasn’t quite figured out how to deal with yet, all lean lines and too-skinny, his body not catching up to his growth yet. At twenty-one, Dean is well-built, strong, an accomplished hunter, perfectly capable of wrestling Sam to the ground.

            Dean pushes Sam into the dirt seconds later, but he doesn’t have him pinned yet, so Sam squirms and hits, but it’s no use. So he does the most irrational, strange thing he’s ever done. He leans up and kisses Dean.

            Dean pulls back, and it gives Sam more than enough room to pull out, but he’s as shocked as Dean, stunned in place.

            “What was that?” Dean asks softly.

            Sam turns his head, flushing furiously. “I, uh, I dunno,” he says quietly. “Dad always says…use whatever you have…and I…”

            “So you kissed your brother,” Dean says, voice low and even. “Don’t know many people who would’ve just thought of that, Sammy. You already thinkin’ about it?”

            Sam’s blush worsens, because maybe Dean is right, maybe he only did that because sometimes he has _those_ dreams, where Dean kisses him and grinds against him and mutters nice, sweet, dirty, _filthy_ things in Sam’s ear. Maybe he only did that because he wanted to feel Dean’s lips, not because of whatever stupid thing Dad said about doing anything necessary to win a fight.

            Dean takes one hand and tilts Sam’s chin, gently turning his head so they’re looking each other in the eye. “You already thinking about it?” he asks.

            Sam closes his eyes and tries to jerk his head away, but Dean doesn’t let him. “Please don’t hate me,” he whispers.

            Dean’s hand on his face becomes even more gentle, a caress more than a grip. “Hey, hey, Sammy,” he soothes. “I don’t hate you. Don’t hate you, Sammy. Look. I don’t hate you,” he assures, and then he leans down and kisses Sam, and it starts off chaste and sweet, but Sam opens his mouth a bit and Dean takes the invitation, snaking his tongue in, and when they finally break away they’re both panting against each other’s mouths.

            “Don’t hate you, Sammy,” Dean promises again.

            Sam looks up at Dean, smiling above him. “You…you too?” he asks, unable to really say it.

            Dean doesn’t seem to care, kisses Sam again, this time soft and slow. “Yeah, Sammy,” he says as he pulls away. “Me too.”


End file.
